


Identity Crisis

by oly_chic



Series: Prowl Week 2020 [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Organized Crime, Secret Past, Theft, detailed vehicle accident, identity theft, prowl week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oly_chic/pseuds/oly_chic
Summary: After helping him handle the injured, Prowl learns that visitors Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are in desperate need of help themselves. Prowl’s own difficult past may be the key to saving them from turning to the criminal underworld for survival.
Series: Prowl Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709596
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52
Collections: Prowl Week





	Identity Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Crash”
> 
> Mechling = teenager
> 
> This is the first of seven unrelated fics, one to be posted per day for a week to celebrate "Prowl Week." The list of prompts is in the series information along with extra information.
> 
> I don’t own Transformers.

He stared at his lower tires with a grimace, wondering how he let them get in such poor shape. It was good Prowl was not working this orn at his new job as a cop, and could take the public transportation to the tire shop. There was a bus coming in two breems outside his apartment complex's door, according to the public services system. Prowl left his decoration-free living room and hastily made his way down to the bus stop.

The bus was crowded, and he barely fit at a standing spot in the aisle. Praxian buses were notoriously awful to use because every native Praxian had doorwings in someone else's face. Didn't matter that the buses were clean and well lit because all a mech saw was doorwings. At least not everyone was difficult to work around he noted as he pushed past a pair of wingless mechs, one red and one yellow, sitting on the side of the bus opposite of the door. The yellow one looks particularly annoyed.

Once he found a free handle he could grab near the back he settled in for a long bus ride standing in an awkward position, with two Praxians doorwing sets very close to him. What he didn't anticipate was it ending abruptly as everything went literally sideways halfway through his ride.

The only warning they had was a screeching tires from outside the bus, and then the forces of hard braking propelled them forward. Mechs crashed into one another or the seats in front of them, and Prowl hit one the two Praxians as the other mech tried bracing. Then everything skidded sideways and turned dark as the bus hit something big, causing it to spin erratically until it flipped onto the side without the door. Lights broke and their shattered pieces rained down into a sea of screams and flying bodies. The loudest screams were from the younglings losing their grips on their creators. The sliding bus came to a stop.

Prowl didn't fully registered what happened to him as the world spun around, only feeling his legs fly free and forcing him to double-down on his grip. Everything else went too fast. When it came to a halt he was staring into a dim upside down world with the only lights coming from scared optics, from adult sizes down to the smallest youngling. At some point his grip lost the battle and he ended up being upside down on his helm. Groans, crying, and prayers broke the silence that came briefly after the screams settled.

He ran a quick, high-level diagnostic of himself. He could feel pain in his right doorwing and right side, suggesting that it hit the grounded windows before he rolled onto his helm. His helm hurt, too. Internal diagnostics show there was no major injuries at least.

Crying became louder and groans became soft screams. He needed to get control of the situation and start a rescue. Putting his headlights on low and moving with calculated careful motions, he rolled onto his left side until he was crouched in place. He called out, "Everyone, please stay calm. We need to get the worst of the injured out of here first for rescue."

"Worst of the injured?" yelled a turquoise Praxian two seats to Prowl's left. "Look around; everyone is messed up. I need to get out of here, my doorwings out of alignment."

Prowl knew the pain well. He also could see some mechs impaled on broken bars and knew misaligned doorwings was far from the worst. "Can you still use your arms and legs? Help me get those with serious damage out the door."

"To the Pit with you, cop," the mech spit at the marked officer. "I'm getting out of here."

"Hey!" came another yell, this one a lot more controlled. Prowl turned and his headlights landed on the red outsider he noticed earlier, now balancing on his upturned seat. "Shut up and listen to him about how to help or just plain shut up and sit down. The cop is probably the only one here with rescue training."

That put the pressure on Prowl. His training was basic rescue with minimal injuries, but he was not about to fail these mechs. He called for those able to move to get to those bleeding profusely, and everyone else to do their best to move out of the way. “For those up front, please move to create a path.”

“Can’t…” came several moans.

“We’ll handle it,” the red one said. Yellow and Red started working together to carefully move mechs around to create an escape path without causing more pain or bleeding than possible.

Everyone who could do rescue work did, save the upset turquoise Praxian. Of everyone who could move Prowl noted that Red and Yellow were the most helpful. Their frames were strongest and able to lift prone mechs out the high door and into the arms of rescuers.

After the bus cleared of all but the three of them, Red motioned to him. “Come on, we’ll get you out.”

“I’m able to move fine.” Mostly not a lie.

“Can you make it out the ceiling-mounted door by yourself?” Yellow pointed out.

“I suppose not. Alright.” They lifted him out and he offered his hand to pull them free.

When he debarked the flipped bus Prowl gave the scene a once-over glance before a local officer flagged him down for a report. The bus’s front and outer side panels were smashed, and two large tankers were stuck in the intersection. His report was quick since he didn’t see or hear much from his previous location.

After finishing the report he looked around again to see what became of the rescued mechs. Where did Red and Yellow go? There, on the very outer rim of the rescue effort. Yellow was indicating that it was time to leave so Prowl hastily made his way over there.

“I wanted to thank you,” he began as soon as they turned to him, “for being helpful. You kept the scene calm and were the best mechs for lifting the injured and scared out.”

“No worries, we’re used to heavy lift,” Red said with a shrug.

“What are you names?”

“Sideswipe and this scowling mech is my brother, Sunstreaker,” Red answered. “Yours?”

“Prowl.” A look of awkwardness settled between all three. Prowl knew they wanted to go but he was curious about them. “What brought you to Praxus? Are you transplants or visitors?”

“We’re just passing on through to get to Iacon.”

“Why were you taking a city bus then?”

Sunstreaker huffed. “Things just worked out that we’d be here a little longer than expected.”

Prowl tilted his helm and read their defensive body language. He recognized a need for help when he saw or heard one. “Anything I can do?”

“Nah, we got it covered,” Sideswipe waved off.

“Do you want me to call a private transporter? Surely there was a reason why you were taking a bus instead of driving.” The look on their faces told them he’d caught them in a bind.

“Uh, well thanks but we can still drive…” Sideswipe slowly replied.

Sunstreaker grunted. “This cop is going to figure it out, or at least keep pestering us. Look, we’re low on energon and credits. So unless you know a place for free energon, you can go on your way.”

“How about I buy you energon while we wait for the roads to clear so we can catch the next bus that comes through?” Prowl suggested. “There’s a shop two buildings down.”

The brothers looked at each other. Sideswipe said, “Thanks. I hate to impose, but you caught us in a time that generosity is much appreciated.”

“You aren’t imposing to say yes to my request,” Prowl pointed out. “Follow me.”

At the energon shop, a quaint little spot with colorful decorations of fake energon goodies hanging down, they made small talk. After several breems it was clear the road cleanup crew would take some more time. Eventually the brothers relaxed enough after everyone finished their energon for Prowl to ask what else was on his mind. “If you don’t mind my asking, I was wondering how you ran out of credits halfway through your travels.”

“We didn’t run out,” Sideswipe sullenly answered. “They and all our stuff got stolen.”

“Shut up!” Sunstreaker demanded.

“Our chaperon is being nice; we can be nice back and answer honestly.”

“You do realize you’re talking to a cop,” Prowl reminded them before Sunstreaker could respond. “I can make a report.”

Sunstreaker slouched. “Did that. The report didn’t do anything.”

Prowl could see that being an issue. Theft of a stranger’s property wasn’t as big around here as it should be, assuming the stranger wasn’t a high-ranking tourist. He asked, “Couldn’t someone wire you the credits and you can pay them back in Iacon?”

The brothers actually looked more upset. Sideswipe kicked the floor. “They didn’t just rob us of credits and our gear. They managed to get a jump on us and destroy our implanted identity chips.”

“What about your backup external chips?” Someone who managed to jump these two and incapacitate them must be very skilled.

“Stolen.”

“I see.” Prowl chewed his lip in thought. He was hesitant to use the first idea that came to mind, but nothing else he thought of was beneficial. It wasn’t as if using the idea gave away the shameful parts of his past. Besides, he knew what kinds of options desperation would lead them to do – and it wasn’t legal. “Then I have another idea, if you would be willing to walk to the next street’s bus stop and ride back with me to my apartment. I have a laptop there that could help.”

“You aren’t some creepy mech about to creep on us, are you?” Sideswipe laughed.

“No slag,” Sunstreaker added.

“Of course not. I only want to help, both in gratitude and as an officer of Praxus making up for our lack of effort.”

“I guess let’s go,” Sideswipe accepted for them both.

It took extra time because of the route but they made it to Prowl’s apartment. “Please note it’s a bit on the small side, as it’s built for one renter.” Prowl knew the small apartment was awkwardly sized for any gathering of friends.

“Whatever,” Sunstreaker replied.

When they entered the first thing he could see the brothers do was look around his living room. Sunstreaker frowned. “You don’t have a single piece of art, or any décor.”

“And it’s so orderly,” Sideswipe added.

He nodded. “I would like something unique but I have no taste, or so I’ve been told. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pull out my laptop from my private room.”

Prowl grabbed his laptop and when he was within sight of the brothers Sideswipe whistled. “I know fancy tech when I see it, and that’s some really fancy tech for a junior cop.”

“That’s because it’s not meant for a cop. My career in law enforcement didn’t just recently start; I transferred from another department.”

“What department?”

“Forensic accounting,” Prowl answered as he set the laptop on the end of the dining room table. “Please sit down. I have questions for you to help me find who stole your identities.”

“You can do that?” Sideswipe asked as they sat across from each other, in front of Prowl. “Why’d you pick that career, and why'd you leave? And why do you still have the laptop?”

“It was not as fulfilling as I hoped by the end. They didn’t seem to have it in their records that I had a spare laptop, and I haven’t had a chance to address that. Now, what functions are listed on your external chips? I need to know everything on your chips so when I search for recent background checks the computer can give us the right hits.”

The brothers exchanged looks and Sideswipe grimaced. “Well, as far as function goes, we’re both in demolition for construction sites. We’ve done other stuff but that’s what on our chips. Also… look, don’t go telling anyone this part, but Sunstreaker and I are split-spark twins.”

Prowl stopped his typing to look them over. Split-spark twins were rare, and he knew why it would be a sensitive subject to them. Split-spark was considered a disability because one could die without being killed directly. He nodded and kept his tone the same as he replied, “I see. That will help tremendously when isolating who claimed your chips as their background. Lastly, when were you attacked? The earliest date for a background check would be that date.”

The twins gave him a date and he asked a few more details before running the analysis program through all relevant databases. Everyone was quiet as the computer worked, but for Prowl it was mostly because he was remembering why he was once a forensic accountant. He had skills almost no one had, thanks to his creator, and that was why this idea was his first thought.

_The computer before him was spectacular and everything a mechling could dream of having. It was hooked up to a private server, but it was also connected to the dark web. Prowl had a knack to do anything with illegal accounting that his creator asked of him. That’s was scared him._

_“Prowl, don’t be shy, get in there,” his sire scolded him. “Test it out and see if you can work the dark web to get a hacker to break into the bank, and see if you can get the server to do the accounting routes and decoys.”_

_He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to be in school like the rest of the mechlings his age, but Prowl hadn’t been in a proper school since he showed talent for this at a young age. His schooling these orns were a lot more private, a lot more lonesome._

_The bank his creator wanted hack had an impressive firewall, one that exceeded Prowl’s growing hacking skills. “Are you sure?” he asked with uncertainty. “It’ll be very expensive.”_

_“It’ll pay out more than almost any cost,” his sire sniped. “You know that.”_

_“Yes, sire.”_

_It was sparkling play for him really, to find the right job criteria to break into that bank and then navigate the dark web to post the job. His creator left with only a few words of his expectations that Prowl find the hacker before he resumed any studies. So Prowl waited, and he knew it would be easy for him to weed out lying hackers and assist his chosen partner in stealing the money. He wished there was a way to stop all of this. Prowl never felt so ashamed._

A beep pulled Prowl out of his memories. “It’s done.” He frowned as he looked at the results. “Unfortunately it only pulled up Sideswipe, which means your chips were sold separately.”

“What does that mean for me?” Sunstreaker asked.

“It means that your external chip was likely used to get a criminal job. That’s not impossible to work with,” Prowl hastily added when Sunstreaker’s shoulders slumped. “Middle class criminals use external chips differently, where they do their own in-depth investigation. If someone used your chip in such a manner, they would need to match your photo on it enough to pass.”

"And how do you know it's middle class criminals?"

"A lower class criminal wouldn't bother buying it, and high class criminals have other methods," he explained.

“So…?” Sideswipe asked.

“What that means is I need to search medical records for recent admissions. They won’t tell us why they were admitted, only that they were admitted. If I cross-reference that with dates middle class job postings closed, then I will get a small list of potential subjects.”

“Criminals _post_ their jobs on public sites?” Sunstreaker asked in disbelief.

“They post their cover jobs,” Prowl clarified. “If you are a middle class criminal, then you know which posts are covers. Please give me a breem to tighten the parameters based on your non-Praxian frame and the dates.”

It really did only take him a breem to set everything up, and another two breems to find medical admissions and cross-reference them with closed job postings. In the end there were three real candidates. “There’s only three possibilities I would first analyze, but there were five more partial hits. I suggest we find Sideswipe’s imposter first, as it says he’s working for only a little longer, and then we can determine which of the three is best suited to address first.”

“Let’s go then,” Sideswipe said with some enthusiasm as he jumped up.

The hunt for Sideswipe’s imposter was not too difficult, as he hadn’t left work early from the shipping docks. Prowl approached the red foreigner alone, waiting until he set down the box. “Sir, I need to speak with you.”

The old mech looked up and Prowl could see fright in his optics. “Y-yes?”

“You are working under someone else’s external identity chip. Return it to me and I won’t report you. Since you have the job, you will unlikely need to show that chip again.” He would keep his promise, but that didn’t mean Sideswipe couldn’t file against false employment records.

The mech nodded and shakily handed Prowl the external chip. Prowl noted that Kaon external chips were purple, something he didn’t see often. “Thank you. Now carry on.”

Prowl returned to the twins outside the dock’s fence. He handed it to Sideswipe. “Here it is.”

“Did he fight?”

“He looked too old to fight.”

Sideswipe's mouth twisted. “I wanted him to fight and get banged up, but now I just feel bad.”

Prowl said nothing and instead looked at them both. “Now we need to figure out how to identify Sunstreaker’s imposter. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

“Well…” Sideswipe began before stopping.

“What he means is maybe, but you’re a cop,” Sunstreaker said as he crossed his arms.

“In other words, you have criminal world knowledge of this area,” he concluded with a neutral tone. It was as he suspected back at the shop, except they had already started dabbling into the underworld. Now more than ever he needed to help them.

“Yeah, well, your city made us do it,” Sunstreaker defensively replied.

“Yeah,” Sideswipe agreed.

“I promise I won’t address it beyond what we do this orn. You know I’m off-duty, so I won’t be getting around that by reporting you after we’re done here,” Prowl promised. He meant it, because help wasn’t worth anything if he turned around and had them imprisoned.

“Look, it’s just been grunt work, okay?” Sideswipe still defended. “Didn’t break anyone’s knees.”

“You two do seem to have more integrity than that,” Prowl agreed and they calmed down. “Now, I have the three here.” He powered up a hologram chip and it projected one report per mech, rotating through them as they watched.

“There,” Sunstreaker said when the second one came about again. “He looks the most like me.”

Prowl pulled up the job posting he was awarded. He looked over the reports more carefully from his computer’s analysis. “Negative. He’s lacking ‘signing bonus’ indicators for a job classified so wealthy. These criminal jobs come with upfront incentives, and they usually result in purchases that must be run through the credit bureau, which is something I can access. Purchases or large down payments for a new house, large-scale renovation, new alt mode, or even an elaborate paint job.”

“How do you know that?” Sideswipe curiously asked.

“My forensic account job,” Prowl falsely claimed.

“Don’t buy it,” Sideswipe shook his helm. “You figured that complex level of thinking way too fast.”

“My history before becoming an accountant gave me better insight,” Prowl replied, trying to elude the question without being too shady. If he didn’t give any answer he would lose their trust, but he wasn’t about to admit to his own criminal past.

Sideswipe pressed his lips. “Okay, sure. Then who?”

“Analyzing the other two’s spending behaviors will take more time – or I can search for records if either of them spent credits at known criminal diners close to the dates they were admitted. Middle class criminals usually accept a hire at their own restaurants so they can control the situation.” Under normal and legal circumstances he needed a warrant first, but Prowl had other options he could use.

“I really wish I knew how you know that, but hey, your pre-accountant past is your own to share however you want when we aren’t friends,” Sideswiped grinned.

No, they weren’t friends, Prowl remembered. It wasn’t as if he thought of them as such, but he had spent more time with them in one orn than he had with anyone he called friend. He controlled the outward reaction to his private hurt.

“I found him, it’s the first one. He spends money regularly at a known corrupt restaurant. You should know it’s for one of the bigger mobster syndicates.”

“Great,” Sunstreaker groaned. “Let’s get this over with. My fist could use some exercise.”

“I intend to not let it come to that,” Prowl discouraged. “I will take care of this. You two can head back to my apartment and wait.”

“No, Prowl, you might need protection.” Sideswipe rejected Prowl's plans.

“And if Sunstreaker is there, they’ll get suspicious at the similar looking mech in their proximity,” Prowl pointed out.

“Then I guess it’s disguise time!” Sideswipe chirped. “We got something back at our place. How about we meet at your place in a half joor? We can’t bring a cop down to where we are holed up.”

“Understood. I will see you then.”

When they came back Prowl was almost amused. They had fake finials on, peelable orange highlights, and orange film over their optics. He didn’t mention that this mob was smart enough to not be tricked by such obvious disguises, seeing the pride in their faces. “You look completely different.”

“Thanks,” Sideswipe grinned. “So do you, with those paint-matching cover ups on your police markings. Can't tell you’re a cop from looks alone.”

“That's good. Now follow me, and know I’ll be driving slowly because my tires are worn.”

“I don’t suppose hopping on one of us for a ride is an option?”

Prowl led them to a spot three blocks from the restaurant. “Hide here at this energon bar. Here are some credits so you’ll be patrons. I’m going to the restaurant across the street. If I’m in trouble, this will alarm.” Prowl handed them an alert that would be triggered by a button. Too bad the real restaurant was too far away for it to be of use. “I will see you soon.”

“We better,” Sideswipe replied.

Prowl went to the restaurant across the street, knowing they were watching him, only for him to disappear out a back door that masqueraded as an emergency exit. He travelled one more block before re-entering on the busy street. Another two blocks and he stood outside a joint energon goodie shop and restaurant. He took a deep vent in and then walked through the doors.

“Hello,” greeted the green Praxian host. “How many?”

“Just me. I need to speak to your boss, and I don’t mean the restaurant manager but Helix. I have intel on someone faking an identity in your boss’s other business.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the host looked absolutely befuddled.

Prowl and the host went back and forth a little until Prowl said, “I’ve done work in the past for Helix as an accountant. I know how money flows through this restaurant to clean the credits for circuit speeders, and I know he keeps the circuit speeders at this location.” He wrote down an address. “Now take me to him before I take this intel somewhere else.”

The host’s optics slightly widened when he saw the address. “Of course sir, this way.” That response was the only reason why Prowl had not blown a whistle on his past – that and he did not want to be discovered by the precinct. Crime lords didn’t know who he was when he was a forensic accountant behind a computer screen with amazing luck and skill at finding them, but now he could be found out by either side of the law. Prowl had chosen his current precinct because none of the criminals that knew him were there.

“Prowl!” Helix, a purple and gold Praxian, loudly greeted from his seat in the private dining room. “What brings you here? Willing to move some money around for us?”

“I’ve come because I have intel on a recent hire of yours, one you won’t feel the loss of losing.”

“Oh, and who’s that?”

“Him,” Prowl pulled up the hologram of the face and name of the mech with all police information stripped. “He has stolen an external identity chip from an associate of mine, and I’m here to collect it. My associate can’t get work or energon because of this.”

“I see.” Helix leaned forward. “He’s already on his way to becoming invaluable, but I suppose for all the very useful work you’ve done for us, I can help a friend of yours. An associate might be asking too much. Would I really give him up for someone who could be your favorite waiter, for all I know?”

“They are new friends,” Prowl said, minding his emotions to not show a physical response to the lie.

“Well then, a friend of Prowl’s is a friend of mine. I will call on him and have him brought down here immediately, with the chip.”

A half joor later Prowl returned to the twins, taking the same route back. Sideswipe looked annoyed, but not half as annoyed as Sunstreaker. The yellow twin growled, “Where have you been? We were about to storm the place, thinking something happened to your hands and you couldn’t push the button.”

“It took a while to wait for your imposter to show up, Sunstreaker. Here’s your chip.” Prowl never saw someone looked so relieved.

“Thank you,” Sunstreaker said with a deep relaxing vent.

“Wow, he so rarely says that,” Sideswipe marveled. “Let’s celebrate; get a drink and join us.”

Prowl was still feeling a little wounded from his earlier lie of friendship and Helix's later questions about said friendship. “I would but I really need to get to the tire store before it closes, and I do have a shift tomorrow. The next bus comes very soon and the stop is four blocks away. I hope you get to Iacon safely.”

“Oh yeah,” Sideswipe sounded disappointed. “Take care, I guess.”

“Yeah, take care,” Sunstreaker said.

Prowl bowed his helm in goodbye, figuring they did not know doorwing language. He left before they could check the nearest tire store and see it would be open for another three joors.

* * *

Four orns later Prowl arrived to his apartment door after work to find a note on the door. It was a mail note and it said a package had been left with his landlord. Curious why he would have a package, he went down to pick it up. He saw it was a tall but thin package. How all the more curious.

When he entered his apartment he immediately but carefully tore open the package, and was taken aback by what he saw. It was an exquisite painting, one of Praxus as if he was standing in the crystal gardens and looking to the starry night and tall buildings above him. How could such a fine art be his?

A chip fell out of the wrapping paper and he set the painting down to pick it up. He put it in a datapad and read the message.

_‘Thanks for all the help. We got our identities back and will be hopping on the inter-city train soon. Hope Sunny’s painting will brighten your way-too-bland of a living room. No one’s going to have this painting, so you can bet it’s the one-of-a-kind amazingness that you wanted. See you next time, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.’_

Prowl clutched the datapad to his chassis and looked at the art. He thought of how he met them, and he thought of how he was able to give them the help they needed. Help he wouldn’t have been able to provide if it weren’t for his past. Perhaps there was something to take from that.


End file.
